


Afternoon

by Auggusst



Series: The Soldier And The Scientist [45]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Ice Cream, Lazy Afternoon, Lazy Days, M/M, Napping, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Tony Stark, Slice of Life, Steve draws Tony, Summer, Sweet, naps, soft, steve's sketchbook, summertime, the lakeside cabin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auggusst/pseuds/Auggusst
Summary: Steve steps out to buy ice cream and comes back to a napping Tony. The sight is horribly endearing.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: The Soldier And The Scientist [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/468745
Comments: 26
Kudos: 207





	Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I nap I swear I just straight up die for like 2 hours and then suddenly come back to life. Meanwhile I wake up 4 or 5 times at night 💀 Why can't I just nap forever??
> 
> Anyway when I woke up from my nap I sat down to write this.

The first thing Steve noticed upon entering the lake house was the silence.

It was rarely silent here, despite it just being the two of them. There was always some kind of noise: the radio, the TV, the sounds of Tony working or speaking. This Tuesday afternoon though, it was silent. Silence wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but in terms of Tony, it could be. Silence could mean trouble, whether internal or external, and sometimes could mean a nasty surprise.

Steve had driven into town at the brunet’s request, to restock on ice cream. They’d run out about a week ago, and with the way Tony was feeling lately, he needed it. Just a few hours ago he suffered another bout of pain induced by the residual energy of using the gauntlet, an unfortunate semi-regular occurrence these days. Steve hoped the flashes of pain would lessen with time, that the days spent here, slow and safe, would bring Tony back to a happy medium. It was too early to tell, really, if it was working. If not, he wouldn’t mind buying ice cream every now and then to make up for it.

Steve hung up his jacket(he ended up not even needing it, the sun was shining today and it was comfortably warm) and set the bag full of tubs of ice cream—coffee flavored for Tony, a creamy butter pecan for him—down in the kitchen. He took a second to gather his bearings, glanced out the window, and took in the beautiful view. It’d rained the last few days, but today, things were finally turning around. The wildflowers were in bloom and dotting the landscape, and the trees were verdant green. The sky was impossibly blue today, only a few clouds dotting the wide expanse. If this weather continued, Steve would definitely take time to ride his motorcycle this week. Maybe Tony’d be interested in joining him on the ride.

Despite the lovely weather, something was still off. Steve’d been home for at least four minutes. Tony usually greeted him whenever he came home, and he wanted to wait a few seconds to see if he would. When Steve still found the house to be silent after a few moments, he called out for his partner.

“Honey?”

No response.

Steve tried again. “Tony?”

Given the silence, he didn’t think he’d get an answer, but had to try anyway. The blond put the ice cream in the freezer, frowned a little, wondered what was going on. Steve moved through the house then, tried to locate the missing scientist. He tried the bedroom, which was empty. The office was too, and so were the living room, and the bathroom, though Tony’s usual signs of half-finished work were around the house.

Steve wasn’t worried necessarily, just a little put off. The soldier knew that it was probably normal, that nothing was wrong, but he couldn’t deny an annoying little pang in the center of his chest, the possibility that something _was_ wrong, that maybe he was hurt, or had been taken, or something worse. After all they’d been through, it was fair to assume the worst, even if it ended up being an overreaction.

Thankfully, Steve didn’t have to worry. He didn’t have to grab his shield, or call the team or emergency services. He found Tony out on the porch, napping peacefully on the swinging bench. It was more like a bed, really, suspended by four strong cables, and properly cushioned. They always kept a blanket on it too, and sometimes sat out here after dinner, watching the fireflies out over the lake.

Tony had napped more this year than all the time Steve had known him, but it was well deserved. He needed the rest, needed to recover from all that he’d endured in the last few months, physically, and emotionally. The blond didn’t mind keeping himself occupied while his partner was asleep. Steve kind of loved seeing Tony nap anyway. He always slept so deeply when he napped, seemed to get more rest than laying down at night, and rarely got nightmares during a nap. Steve wasn’t sure why it made a difference, never really thought to ask. As long as Tony got his sleep, he didn’t really care how.

Currently, the brunet was sprawled out on his side, the blanket tossed over his shoulder. His t-shirt was riding up a little, and his sweatpants were kind of twisted. His face was smushed against the swing, his mouth slightly agape, and his breathing was slow and steady. Tony’s glasses were still on too, entirely askew thanks to his position. In short, he looked _gone_.

The soldier hadn’t been away that long, maybe 40 minutes, so it was a little surprising to see that was all it took to put Tony out for the count, but that was okay. Steve huffed a little in amusement, stood watching for a moment, taking in the scene. He knew Tony’d end up with a crick in his neck though, with the way he was laying, so the blond couldn’t simply watch forever.

Tony was always a deep sleeper when it came to naps, so Steve wasn’t exactly concerned about waking him up when he leaned forward to kneel on the swing, careful of his balance, and dipped his arms between his partner and the plush cushions. God, Tony was warm under his fingers, but he was also dead weight. Steve slipped his hands up Tony’s back a little, and lifted him, just enough to pull him over on the swing, to adjust his position. Tony’s head tipped back, and an arm slid off his midsection and onto the bed, entirely limp.

Steve rolled his eyes to himself, exhaled a laugh. He remembered carrying Tony to bed more than once over the years, when he’d exhausted himself working in the lab. He was always like this, a mess of warm, pliable limbs, like a ragdoll. He usually didn’t wake up until Steve was tucking him into bed, or tugging his jeans off so he’d be more comfortable. Tony didn’t stir this time though, even as the blond leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulled off his glasses, and carefully draped the blanket around him.

The brunet was always gorgeous, in Steve’s opinion, but right now, with a sliver of sunlight cutting across his cheek, comfortably and casually lying there, the blanket resting over his lap, the blond couldn’t help but be reminded of Sleeping Beauty. Tony didn’t necessarily sleep gracefully, but the sight was enchanting nonetheless. Maybe it was silly to think about, to make the connection, but Steve did anyway.

The soldier was a little tired himself, but didn’t want to disturb Tony by joining him on the swing, or attempting to carry him to bed right now. He could keep himself occupied, and honestly, after days of rain, he didn’t quite want to go inside anyway. He could sleep later.

Steve opted for grabbing his sketchbook instead, and settling in the lounge chair across from the swing. He hadn’t been able to draw in the last few weeks, was kind of in an art slump actually, and couldn’t seem to find the catalyst, but thought he may have just found the solution.

Ten or so minutes later, after whipping up a batch of iced tea, and setting the pitcher and two glasses out on the porch table—Tony would surely be thirsty when he woke up, and nothing was as satisfying as a cup of cool iced tea in the summer— Steve started sketching. It felt good to hold graphite in his hands again, with a direction to follow, unlike the last time he’d tried drawing, and scrapped everything he made.

He didn’t draw Tony that often, really, at least not seriously. There were little doodles from time to time, and the occasional portrait, but most of the time, Steve just couldn’t capture him to his satisfaction, couldn’t get the details just right, and it was kind of frustrating. But Tony had always been larger than life, even when he was annoyingly so, before Steve got to know him.

God, that was so long ago. Thinking about it sometimes made it all seem surreal. He could hardly imagine the way it felt to not be in love with Tony, to not want to spend every moment at his side. They were pigheaded back then though, always pushing and pulling, instead of finding the equilibrium they had now. Sometimes the scales still tipped, like last week, where Tony got mad enough to throw a pillow at his head and Steve spent half an hour launching pebbles across the lake with dangerous precision, but for the most part, they’d learned, they’d grown together, and that felt really nice.

There were so many mistakes between them, that still haunted him and probably always would, but they’d made it through it all, and were happy now. Steve couldn’t always express all of that in his artwork, couldn’t capture it in smooth lines, and couldn’t convey the love, the gratitude he felt at being here on paper. He could always try, though, and sometimes ended up satisfied with his attempts. He thought he’d be satisfied this time around, could tell by the way the drawing was flowing, and a sense of ease overcame him.

By the time he started properly shading, he was so invested in his work that he didn’t realize Tony was waking up, until he heard the joints of the swing squeak and a groan filled the calm, summer air.

Steve couldn’t help but smile, a little tired himself, when Tony slumped over on his stomach, his limbs still too heavy to function.

“God,” the scientist mumbled to himself, probably not even aware Steve was there yet. His eyes were still closed, and a hand brushed over his face.

The blond made sure to make noise as he flipped his sketchbook closed, and set it aside. He didn’t quite want to startle the brunet, and found that Tony was always on high alert, even after all this time, so the gentle sounds would be more than enough to make him aware of Steve’s presence. He knew Tony had heard him when the brunet opened his eyes, just barely, and settled his gaze on him.

“Had a nice nap?” Steve asked, brushing the graphite off his hands with his drawing towel.

Tony took a second to process the question, still trying to work his way back to coherency, the soldier knew, but then he was nodding his head, stifling a yawn. “Feel like a corpse,” he muttered, letting out a low sigh.

“You were out like one,” Steve agreed. “Didn’t even hear me calling you when I got home.”

Tony hummed in reply, tried thinking over what he’d been doing, how he ended up out here. He didn’t know, really, what made him step out on the porch. He’d planned on continuing his latest project, still had some last minute adjustments to make to the blueprints for their new home, but he had just been too exhausted, couldn’t really think straight. He was getting used to the random painful interruptions in his days, but they still bothered him, put a damper on his mood, and lately, he just couldn’t seem to push himself to work. Steve insisted there was no need to push himself, that he deserved this time, that he needed to relax, but as always, Tony still managed to feel guilty about it.

He’d sat down on the swing intent on staying just a few moments, but almost as soon as he felt himself sink into the cushions, remembered how nice the throw blanket felt under his hands, he just sort of…drifted. He had no idea how long he’d been out, or how long Steve had stayed here waiting for him to wake up.

Now that he was a little more coherent, he took in the sight of Steve, his favorite sight in the world. He was as handsome as ever, his black t-shirt form fitting, hair gently ruffled by the breeze, and a healthy summer glow about his skin. There was no better sight to wake up to, honestly. The sketchbook, now closed, lying on the table alongside the pitcher of iced tea got Tony’s attention next. Its presence made it clear enough what Steve had been up to while he was sleeping(even though it was all blurry without his glasses), and Tony felt a little embarrassed at being drawn, as he always did, but ended up smiling.

“You gonna let me see it this time?” he asked, tipping his head in the direction of the sketchbook.

Steve let out a little sigh. Tony had always been observant, too observant, even moments after waking.

He liked sharing most of his art with Tony, and in fact, some of it hung on the walls, but his sketchbook was always more private, something just for him, really. On rare occasion, Tony had been allowed to look over the blond’s shoulder as he flipped through the pages, and Tony always complimented him, said how beautiful the things he drew were, but Steve still felt kind of self-conscious about it.

“Maybe,” he ended up saying, leaning forward to grab the pitcher of iced tea. “You thirsty?” he asked.

“Nice derailment, but yeah, I am,” Tony admitted, and pushed himself up by the elbows until he was sitting up. He squinted at his surroundings, and moved to scoot off of the swing in search of his glasses, but Steve handed them to him before he could stand, and then was pushing a cool glass into his hands. Steve had been sipping his own glass steadily while he drew, but had enough of that, and also had enough of sitting so far away from Tony, and joined him on the swing when the scientist made room for him.

Tony gave him a serene smile as he accepted the glass, which Steve enthusiastically returned. The iced tea went down smooth, and was wonderfully sweet, and Tony ended up drinking half of it before he was ready to set it down. He carefully put the glass down on the ground by the side of the swing(the table was too far away to reach, and he didn’t feel like standing up really).

Steve leaned over to capture his lips in a slow, soft kiss, which Tony gladly returned. He felt warm, and comfy, still a little hazy and tired. Yeah, he wasn’t getting any work done today. He could feel himself drift a little, the feeling of Steve’s lips against his familiar and far too good, as usual, especially when the blond let his tongue swipe across the seam of Tony’s lips, but before he knew it, Steve was pulling back, and Tony didn’t have the coherence to chase his mouth. Instead, he watched fondly as Steve got comfortable on the swing now. The soldier relaxed into the cushions, folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the wooden crossbeams that lined the porch roof.

He looked so relaxed, kind of drowsy the way Tony was feeling now too, and so happy, and it made Tony’s heart swell. He would be content to stay like this forever, without a thousand thoughts pulsing in his brain, without any kind of danger or negativity at all, just him and Steve, and nothing else.

After a few moments though, he remembered why Steve had left the house in the first place, why he’d been gone, and needed a mission report. “You got the ice cream?” he asked.

Steve nodded. “Of course,” he replied. “I know better than to turn up empty handed.”

Tony scoffed at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Steve’s eyes settled on him, the blue in them vibrant and welcoming. “It means, someone has a tendency to throw a fit whenever I forget something at the store.”

“A fit? That’s exaggerating,” Tony protested. He laid back on the swing too, snuggled up next to Steve and swung an arm around his midsection, sighed contentedly when the blond’s arm came down to wrap around his shoulder. “I just get a little…irritated.”

“Irritated enough to threaten to make me sleep on the couch,” Steve pointed out.

Well. Tony couldn’t deny that one. Was he to blame, though? Ice cream was an essential food. He didn’t even eat a full bowl mostly, honestly rarely used a bowl in general, and tended to eat out of the tub. Steve didn’t like the coffee flavor, so Tony didn’t have to share it anyway. He normally ate just a few spoonfuls whenever he felt overwhelmed, saved the rest for particularly bad nights, and so, yes, he thought it was very justifiable that he got upset when his emergency balm was missing. Sometimes he couldn’t help but get worked up, just as Steve sometimes lost his mind over a missing sock, or when he couldn’t find a specific pen.

Of course, Steve had never made him sleep on the couch, (except that one time) so _maybe_ Tony’s reactions were a little over the top. Maybe.

He hummed noncommittally at the thought, snuck his hand under Steve’s shirt to feel his warm skin, the planes of muscle on his abdomen. He would never tire of the feeling of Steve’s body beneath his fingertips, would never tire of the way they fit together.

“Nothing to say now?” Steve asked after a beat of silence, and the smug delight was clear in his tone.

Tony was still too sleepy to come up with a good response. It was ridiculously comfortable here, but especially so with Steve beside him, and he wanted to capitalize on that. It was a lazy day, in all aspects, and he could afford to let the soldier win their verbal spar if it meant they’d keep cuddling.

The brunet stifled a yawn. “Tired,” he replied simply, closing his eyes once more. “I’d love a second nap.”

“I’d love a first one,” Steve admitted, and turned his head to rest it on top of Tony’s. He closed his eyes.

“And then we eat the ice cream,” Tony added matter-of-factly.

Steve laughed a little despite himself, yawned softly, and reached up to brush the moisture away from his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment with your thoughts!!


End file.
